Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
L ila ran her hand down the tendril of ivy, finding the joint where a cut would do the least damage to the plant. The woods were fragrant with new growth, and the early afternoon sun was a warm blanket across her shoulders.
She’d changed from her city clothes to a pale green dress that fell to the ground and swished around her ankles. Like all fae garments, it was softly tailored to fit without restricting natural movement. With warm earth beneath her bare feet, such creature comforts should have added up to a perfect outing. She ached with tension nonetheless.
Rafe stood a few feet away, a wide basket of the greenery she had gathered at his feet. He was dressed in fae garments—a loose tunic and slim fitting pants—since his own clothes were beyond repair after the last fight. The simple garments only emphasized his stature. The sun was behind him, turning his broad-shouldered form into a looming silhouette.
She didn’t need to see his features to gauge his mood. The bracelets kept him obedient, but they couldn’t change his nature. Her mother had said shifters were, by definition, mere beasts. Rafe was anything but mere . He radiated wild energy as if the primal force of his wolf had been distilled into flesh.
Angry flesh. The angular lines of his form broadcast outrage louder than any words. He had a right to his fury, but it made Lila acutely uncomfortable. Fae rarely allowed themselves so much emotion. Not before a stranger, and not when magic was in the mix. That path led to chaos.
Lila drew her knife. It had a silver handle and curved blade so sharp that the woodiest stems cut like silk. She looped the ivy into a bundle and dropped it into the basket, the variegated leaves pale against the blooms and branches already there. She might be overdoing the greenery, but the stark house needed a lot of help before it would feel welcoming.
It was probably a lost cause. There were too many uncomfortable undercurrents in the place. Lila had gone back to the dungeon to look for Captain Teegar—she had questions for the man who’d arrested her father—but found the cells empty. There had been one filled with packing crates, another that still had traces of vampire blood, but none with prisoners. Wherever her mother had put the captain, she didn’t want him easily found. Lila had thought about questioning her, but then decided she’d find out more on her own. She’d try again later when her mother was busy with the influx of guests.
“Don’t you have servants to gather greenery?” Rafe asked as she wandered the few feet back to the trees. “Gardeners?”
His deep voice startled Lila. They’d barely spoken since they left the house. “I understand Lord Farras is bringing his retinue. There will be plenty of staff then.”
“So why not wait until your lord arrives?”
She examined a holly bush, wondering if its shining leaves were worth the prickles. When she looked up, Rafe’s expression was hard to read. “He is an honored guest. He shouldn’t have to prepare his own welcome. ”
A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, then vanished. “You don’t like him much, do you?”
Lila shrugged, reminding herself to be more guarded. “My opinion does not matter.”
She cut a branch of holly and turned to drop it in the basket. The motion brought her within an arm’s reach of Rafe. Only the basket stood between them. There had been yards before, so the wolf had moved closer, staying right on her heels. Just as he had for the better part of the last hour.
He was acting as her servant, but he was also stalking her. Lila felt a sudden, terrified impulse to bolt, but knew better. That would make her prey.
“Your opinion should matter,” he said. “You are part of your pack.”
“Not for long. I’m not staying,” she replied. “I have a job and a home in the city that say I don’t need to care. Or impress anyone.”
She hadn’t meant to be so blunt—or even talk to the wolf at all—but voicing her defiance felt good. It also left her feeling lonely. Going her own way was a two-edged blade.
“I’m sure you impress them. They would not ask for your help otherwise.” That faint smile was back, more knowing than happy. He understood her position every bit as well as she did.
Her gaze lingered on his expression, narrowing to his smile, and then his mouth. Not for the first time, she wondered if wolves were good kissers.
Lila pulled her thoughts up short. The wolf wasn’t there to satisfy her curiosity. He wasn’t even a friend, and was certainly not her confidante. He was here for information, for payback, and to protect his pack.
“I didn’t ask for sympathy,” she said, finally letting the holly drop into the basket. It fell with a rustle.
“We’ve both been pulled into a situation we didn’t bargain for,” he said. “That’s not sympathy, just observation. ”
“You’re trying to find common ground so you can build trust between us. That trick is as old as Stonehenge.” She stepped back to return to her work, but he caught her arm. A bold move, for a captive. She met his frown with a glare.
“Neither of us understand what’s going on.” He slowly released her. “That’s plain enough from the questions you ask your kin.”
Lila wondered exactly how much he’d seen and heard. “What’s that to you?”
“We both want the truth. Together we stand a better chance of finding it.”
He’d leaned so close she could see the touch of panic in his eyes. Rafe was gambling she wouldn’t end him then and there. It was rare to find a male—even a fae male—who acknowledged her power and still trusted her enough to lay himself bare. This mortal wolf was doing just that.
Surprise flooded Lila. “What do you propose?”
It wasn’t agreement, but it was enough that he looked away, finally ending his intense scrutiny of her every move. “First, I want to see the graves of my kin.”
He ducked his head then, hiding from her gaze an instant before he straightened, his features blank once more. The show of vulnerability was brief but real, rousing the tumult of emotions that had drowned Lila over the last few days. His pain found an answering chord inside her—one she’d barely acknowledged for fear she’d crack in two.
Without warning, their lips met. It took Lila a moment to realize she had been the one to lean in, but he’d responded with instant intensity. The pressure of his kiss made her ache in forgotten places. She jumped back in shock, her fingers pressing to her lips as if to rub away the sensation of his warm mouth against hers. A scalding heat spread over her skin, turning her cheeks to flame. “I’m sorry. ”
His dark eyebrows quirked. “Are you? Shall I demand a stronger apology?”
His banter rang hollow, embarrassing her more. The air between them was thick with feeling—fear, desire, anger—and there was no room to be lighthearted. She turned away, desperate to end the moment.
What had she been thinking? And yet, her heart couldn’t witness that much hurt without trying to heal it. Fool, what comfort could a fae give to a wolf?
“If you want to see the graves, come this way,” she said briskly, striking out along a narrow path.
Rafe picked up the basket and followed. Lila led them on a half-hour walk that circled the house and angled up the slope behind it. As before, the forest thickened before they reached the hidden cluster of mounds. When they passed through the final barrier of branches, she stepped aside to allow Rafe a complete view of the small clearing.
Rafe froze, as if seeing the graves made the death of his packmates real. He set down the basket of greenery, all but dropping it before it touched the ground. Then he hesitantly stepped around it, slowly moving to stand among his buried kin. Every line of his body held grief, but he did not speak a word.
Lila swallowed hard, fighting a piercing ache inside her. Rafe bent, placing a palm upon the freshly turned earth, as if speaking to his dead.
He had been right. Neither of them had bargained for this—either the losses or the possibilities. Her lips still felt the pressure of his. He had firmly responded, but the episode unsettled her. Somewhere between her arrival at the way station and this burial site, the landscape of her world had become something she didn’t recognize.
Lila bent over the basket, carefully moving the holly aside before sorting through the cuttings. She picked out an armful of the wild peas and shooting stars that bloomed wild along the lakeside and began laying them on the graves. She came to a stop beside Rafe, who remained still and silent as if in shock. Lila put a hand on his arm.
He drew in a long breath and let it out in an angry gust. “Why did this happen?”
“Someone has a secret,” she replied. “Whatever it is, it’s not worth this many lives.”
A twig cracked. They both turned toward the path leading to the small clearing. Lila tensed, readying a spell, while Rafe stepped to one side. They’d both want room to move if it came to a battle—and by unspoken agreement, they were facing that fight together.
For a long moment, there was only the hush of wind in the leaves broken by an occasional footfall. Then Lila’s breath caught as Ademar emerged from the trees, leaning on a tall walking stick. Fae usually moved without a sound, but his injury explained why they’d heard his approach. He looked haggard, the sheer weight of the healing spells and amulets upon him turning his complexion a waxy hue. His gray eyes took in the two of them and the flowers on the graves in one disapproving sweep.
“What are you doing up and walking this far from the house?” Lila asked in surprise.
“I came to the woods to heal,” her brother replied, his tone curt. “Or have you forgotten how to be a fae of the forest?”
Lila didn’t respond as Ademar looked again at the mounded earth. “By the Abyss, these are the dead shifters.”
“They are,” she said quietly, grateful that Rafe kept silent. Maybe it was enough that Ademar sounded subdued.
“I don’t understand what happened here,” her brother mused.
“I don’t know either,” she replied. So far, all she’d uncovered was a tangled mass of fae politics. Had it been Lord Farras? Captain Teegar? “Why would anyone kill these wolves? ”
Ademar raised his chin. “I wasn’t speaking of the dead. I was wondering aloud why you brought your prisoner to this place.”
Lila opened her mouth to protest, but then bit back the words. She could feel Ademar’s loathing for Rafe as if it were a touchable thing. She understood it, but it was every bit as dangerous as the wolf’s fangs.
“My prisoner is wearing spelled bracelets,” she said evenly. “You know that.”
Her brother frowned. “Even so, I question bringing him to an outdoor location where escape is easy—and he does seem to specialize in picking locks.”
Annoyed, Lila busied herself tidying her basket. “It’s my call.”
“Are you certain about that?” Ademar moved toward her, leaning heavily on his staff. The white wood was carved in a pattern of leaves and vines set with glittering quartz. “Are you certain of your decision to bring a dangerous captive to the one place guaranteed to rouse his resentment of us?”
His words struck deep, mostly because Lila shared that doubt. The difference between them was her willingness to believe an outsider’s word. She straightened, doing her best to keep her temper. “I’ll take that risk.”
“But the rest of us disagree. Your duty to family comes first, and that includes keeping your prisoner secure.”
“Has it occurred to you that a killer is loose in the area, and I may require protection?”
“He’s wearing cuffs,” Ademar replied, his tone flat.
“The cuffs won’t stop him from defending whoever holds the key.” She put her hand to her throat, where the key hung on its chain. “Where is this coming from? As little as I like it, I’m decorating your halls and preparing a chamber for his lordship. There’s no reason to dog my steps with your accusations.”
Ademar’s smile was sharp. “No one doubts your ability to fluff a pillow.”
“If I can’t be trusted, then don’t give me the responsibility,” she shot back. “I did not ask for it and would sooner be on my way back home. In fact, that is exactly where I’m going the moment this is over.”
Ademar gripped her arm, just as Rafe had minutes ago. The wolf had been gentler, and Lila gave an involuntary yelp.
“You’ve had your own way far too long,” her brother snapped.
Rafe had been a statue until that moment. Now, as fast as any fae, he grabbed Ademar and flung him back from Lila. Ademar flew, arms spread, before the bushes at the edge of the clearing broke his fall. Lila cried out, cradling her bruised arm even as she sprang forward to help her brother.
Ademar’s glare froze her where she stood. “I didn’t ask you to coddle me.”
Digging his staff into the soft earth, he heaved himself upright again, stumbling to regain his balance despite his bad leg. Lila flinched but couldn’t tell whether it was from her brother’s words or the growl ripping from Rafe’s chest. She held up her hands, palms out, as Ademar pointed his staff at the wolf.
“Stop it,” she commanded. “Both of you stop .”
She didn’t raise her voice, but she did push a thread of compulsion into her words. Instantly, the clearing fell silent, even the wind holding its breath. Rafe’s growl faded, and Ademar grudgingly lowered his weapon. Lila held her position, the sun hot on her back as her attention shifted from one male to the other.
Rafe’s anger was like a physical weight over the scene, ready to crush them given the chance, but he remained silent and still. Ademar was another matter.
“You have no right to show that beast mercy,” her brother said into the silence. “Not after what he did to me.”
Guilt twisted inside her. “Go back to the house. Go back to bed. We can talk this out when I’m done.”
Ademar’s look hit her like ice water. “Yes, we’ll speak later. As a family. ”
Which meant Galeeta would be involved. She watched with foreboding as Ademar retreated the way he’d come, using his glittering staff to support his weight. As the branches waved and bowed with his passage, gooseflesh crept down her arms.
“Will that be a problem?” Rafe asked.
“Nothing I’m not used to,” Lila said easily, but didn’t believe it.